


A Silly Hobbit Tradition

by KBBearen (KDRBear)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Holiday, M/M, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 12:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDRBear/pseuds/KBBearen
Summary: Though Bilbo and Thorin have repaired their friendship after the Battle of the Five Armies, the both still harbor regret and guilt.  Is a silly Hobbit Yuletide tradition enough to bring them closer?





	A Silly Hobbit Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emsiecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/gifts).



Bilbo nearly startled off his perch at the knock on the door, but he steadied himself against the wall as the chair stopped wobbling. “Come in, come in, I’ll be down in a tic!” he called over his shoulder, finishing what he had started.

“Down? And what would you be getting down from, Master -” came the pleasant rumble from the entranceway as his visitor doffed his boots before coming around the corner to a shock. “Bilbo!” Thorin crossed the room as quickly as his still tender foot would allow and wrapped his hands nearly around his hobbit’s waist as the foolish fellow went on his tiptoes on that tilted chair to hang...well, something green.

Oh, and those huge hands were warm around his waist. And how he would like those large warm hands around something else and… Ehm, they were taking things slowly, after everything that had happened and deathbed confessions turned out to be near-deathbed confessions and Thorin still had not let go of his middle! “Yes, thank you, I’ve got it now. If I may get down.”

Thorin’s hands flew off of him as though they were burned and that telltale little blush started just barely visible above his beard. The offending hands joined behind his back as he stepped away and stared up at Bilbo’s handiwork.

You’re allowed to touch. You’re allowed to touch and so much more… Bilbo wanted to cry out. But slowly, slowly. Oh, and there was mistletoe amongst the foliage waiting to be put up as though taunting him.

“Master Baggins, if you require assistance, you have only but to ask,” Thorin stated evenly, surveying the new wreath and garland Bilbo had just that day gotten from the traders at Dale.

“I was doing quite well until someone came by pounding the poor door down, I’ll have you know,” Bilbo sassed playfully as he moved to fill the tea kettle with fresh water.

Thorin followed him, picking up the table service and continuing his part in the ongoing argument with a fond smile on his lips. “I know not the sturdiness of hobbit doors, but these are dwarven built…”

The two worked together as easily as ever setting up afternoon tea in Bilbo’s rooms as they had done near every day since Thorin was allowed out of his sick bed. And if there was a slight pinch between Thorin’s brows, well, Bilbo certainly noticed, he mapped that dear face often enough, but he was polite enough not to bring it up first.

“You miss the green and growing.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes, I do.” No sense denying it, but before that pinch between the brows could turn into a full frown, Bilbo continued. “As does every Hobbit during this season, which is part of why we bring some inside with us.”

“You did not do this last year,” Thorin noted, glancing again at new decor.

Bilbo glanced down at his hands, buttering a scone with far more care than a pastry warranted. “Well, there were more pressing issues last year than a silly Hobbit’s holiday.” You nearly died, you still might have died this time last year, he didn’t say.

Thorin’s warm, strong hand covered his, stopping the fidgeting with the butter knife. Those bright blue eyes met his as he looked up. “This year is much less dire,” the deep voice assured him. “What do we need to celebrate a brave and loyal Hobbit’s holiday?”

“Well, I know that Durin’s Day has just passed, but as it is a Hobbit tradition, we’ll need a big feast…” And Bilbo went on to describe the succulent roast geese, dried fruit soaked in brandy, snappy biscuits seasoned with exotic spices from the east, the carving of the Yule log, lighting a single candle at sundown on the longest night of the year, and every other tradition he could think of.

 

 

After tea, Thorin insisted on helping Bilbo put up the rest of his greenery. Maybe it was a little more like hovering, but Bilbo still appreciated Thorin moving a more sturdy stone side table around for him and also handing him the garlands and branches. Also, the steadying hand on his lower back was a bonus.

“There, that should be it,” Bilbo claimed, looking how to get down from the table Thorin had hoisted him upon with the least amount of embarrassment.

“And what of this one?” Thorin asked, holding the little bushel with tear-drop leaves and white berries above his head.

Oh, how Bilbo’s heart fluttered at such a pretty picture, but surely Thorin couldn’t know the meaning of that little plant and what he was doing to Bilbo’s self control! “Ah, yes, I just about forgot,” he said weakly, accepting the sprig and hanging it in the center of the arch.

“Now, that should be it,” Thorin smiled at Bilbo, holding his arms out to help him down, and Bilbo would have to be a much stronger Hobbit to not accept.

Thorin wrapped his large hands around his waist and easily lifted him off the table as if he weighed nothing. Even with his feet on the ground, Thorin still did not let go, basking in the warm glow.

And they were just under the mistletoe; Bilbo couldn’t resist. He went up on tiptoe and pressed a quick, chaste kiss against Thorin’s lips before pulling away, and was glad he did as Thorin stood still as stone. Anxiously, Bilbo started explaining himself, or at least explaining his way out of it. “I’m sorry, it’s a tradition to kiss under the mistle-”

But Thorin cut his words off, desperately pressing his lips against Bilbo’s, winding his fingers into his honey-gold curls, tilting their heads for a better angle...until the word ‘tradition’ started bouncing around his head. He pulled back, though kept his hands where they were. “It’s a Hobbit tradition, to kiss under the plant?” he asked.

“Uh-huh, you have to kiss whoever is standing under the mistletoe, that one,” Bilbo clarified, identifying the sprig. He was a little breathless, a little warm, and would quite like to get back to the kissing if Thorin’s curiosity was sated.

Unfortunately, Thorin pulled away completely. “My apologies, I misjudged your intentions and responded inappropriately.”

“What?” But it had been going so well! “What do you mean?”

“That you were obligated by tradition and not due to-” Thorin wouldn’t even look him in the eye!

Bilbo pushed Thorin until they were in the center of the room, where no greenery hung. “Do you see any mistletoe?” he questioned.

“No, though I-Mmph!”

Bilbo kissed him hard and with just as much passion as he could muster. He did pull away, eventually, when they both needed a breath. “Not an obligation,” he panted softly. “A desire.”

“A desire,” Thorin agreed, cupping his face gently and bringing him in for much softer, slower kisses, kisses that acknowledged they may have this for the rest of their days.

 

 

“Uncle! Bilbo!” came a couple of young voices some time later. They may have knocked, but they never waited for the door to be answered. “Aren’t you done with tea yet? We have something to show you!”

“You’ll never believe what the Men are selling in the market-” Fili and Kili came to a stop in the archway of the dining area to see Thorin and Bilbo with their arms around each other, hair in disarray. “Finally!” “Ew!”

Eyeing the greenery above the princes’ heads, Thorin kissed Bilbo again, much to his nephews’ exaggerated gagging. “Is it required to kiss anyone who walks under the mistletoe?”

“Not really, it’s just a silly tradition, after all,” Bilbo replied.

“Well, this one I like,” Thorin chuckled, releasing the Hobbit. He had Kili in a headlock before the boy could squirm away, giving him a bristley kiss to the top of the head as he had when his nephews were so much smaller, and a noogie for good measure while Fili laughed at his brother’s plight and stayed well away from their uncle.

Bilbo shook his head, so much for his tender moment with Thorin, but then again, it looked like they would be able to have many more in the years to come. “Joyous Yule,” he called to some of his favorite dwarrow.

“Joyous Yule,” Thorin called back as Kili finally escaped from his hold.


End file.
